


I Pity Him So

by homosexuwhy



Series: DaveKat Week 2017 [3]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Day4, M/M, Sadstuck, Short One Shot, Smut, Unrequited Moirallegiance, Xenophilia, but it's sad all over, davekatweek, davekatweek2017, i'd say sad ending, it was weird to write idk if ill do it again, my first one at that, pretty angsty for my standards at least
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 10:19:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11757774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/homosexuwhy/pseuds/homosexuwhy
Summary: Dave loves Karkat. Unfortunately, not in the right quadrant, but he keeps what he can get.





	I Pity Him So

Claws here at his wrist, at his everywhere, really. The pasty white skin suddenly erupting with trails of red wherever the sharp claws decided to touch. Up his arms, in the back of his neck, teasing at his still-dressed back. Going so red it gave Dave a hard time, remembering their intent was black.

He bites Karkat’s lips in his mouth instead, waiting for the payback. His wrists are pinned back to the wall as he precariously sits on the bed. With the troll on top of him, there’s not much he can do despite being felt up and teased and mildly hurt.  It’s better like this, he thinks to himself.

“Shirt off” He asks Karkat, breaking the kiss. They both let go to get partially undressed, and he lets himself show off a little, stretching himself a little too much. He lets Karkat see him, the scratches, old and new, and hickeys and love bites. Hate bites. All theirs, Dave was uninterested in anyone else. Karkat on the other hand…

His red front was well taken care of.

He leaned towards the troll in front of him, blunt nails against hard gray skin and the aggressive kissing was back. At times, a bit too much teeth, at others too little. They were busy feeling each other up, trying to put to movements what they didn’t want to put into arguments.

The kiss was broken and Dave received a trail of hickeys from collarbone to bellybutton, before pulling Karkat by the hair to kiss him more. They alternated like that in an awkward sitting position on the bed.

Dave fiddled with Karkat’s pants, a bit too eager. Soon enough he had his hands in the other’s underwear, kneeling in front of him with his face in the crook of Karkat’s neck. There, he can blush all he wants to when the troll whimpers to a certain teasing touch near his nook or to the soft touches when he starts to unsheathe.

Not much longer and he’s being pushed back onto a laying position and has Karkat purring into his ears, a “fucker” here and “you like that, don’t you” there when he starts being touched. And who’s to say Dave wasn’t giving in to the touch, ‘pleading like a slut’ as Karkat said (in more than one occasion).

That is enough teasing, he thought.

He brings Karkat down to the mattress, puts himself on the top. Sparing him a look, followed by a nod of consent from the other part, he guides himself in the troll’s nook. Soft and warm, his belly getting warmer with the restless bulge between them.

He sucks a spot on Karkat’s neck, and once satisfied, he starts moving. The claws are again at his back, damage unimaginable. Dave likes it, likes being marked. It’s an excuse not to look for someone else after all. Overwrites the pain of looking at himself in the mirror and _thinking about it_.

He pounds into Karkat once and then once more, and so on, building up a rhythm of “shit fuck more” out of his mouth. Karkat’s legs are wrapped around his hips and he reaches for a pillow to settle under his lower back. Don’t want the boy getting hurt.

Karkat tightens around him in a controlled fashion. He’s asking Dave to speed it up. So Dave puts his lips against Karkat’s ear shell. “You are so good, ‘kat.” He says. Karkat likes praise and it pisses him off, so double points.

Picking up the rhythm, Dave lets his head drop besides Karkat’s on the mattress. He pants and feels himself getting closer. He keeps feeling the troll up with one of his hands, until he is coming. It’s good and warm and welcome, Karkat quite messy and shaky beneath him.

His hand returns to Karkat’s bulge as he pulls out. He jerks him off sloppily, the best he can with its spasmodic movements. He also settles in a sitting position and puts two fingers inside Karkat’s nook, pressing against his bulge bone. He likes that, Dave would know.

He feels the tightening at the same time he hears the “Shit Dave, fuck.” And the next moment or so, there’s red genetic fluids on his hands and bedsheets. He gives Karkat one last kiss and removes the sheets from underneath him, careful not to disturb too much. Karkat looks gorgeous when he’s relaxed like that.

Dave excuses himself and takes those to the washing machine. He just shoves it in there, not caring for doing any handwork at the moment. When he gets back, he is met with a close-eyed Karkat, most likely asleep.

He does not study his features like he once used to. He does not try to sync their breathing (maybe just a little) and he definitely does not look at the hickey on the right side of his neck, one Dave doesn’t recall producing.

Karkat is amazing, anyone can see that. Karkat with his tough life story, running from imperial drones. Karkat, the 13-year-old child, leading his twelve friends to the end of the world, looking for a way out. Karkat with his will to fight and lack of skill to do so, blaming himself every step of the way.

Dave knew he didn’t love him. What he felt couldn’t even be called that, it was different. Dave pitied him with every last drop of his essence, so strong he daren’t whisper about. He wanted to offer love, protection and security. But Karkat didn’t want that. Maybe it’d only make him angrier. Their relationship, blacker.

That was what Dave could get. Hurting the one he pities the most, consensual as it is, has him to shreds every time. Arguing with Karkat breaks his heart, the hisses and snickers and mocking tones they use with each other kills him.

 _That was what Dave could get._ He repeats that to himself from time to time. He closes his eyes, knowing Karkat will not be there when he wakes up. He would be crying by now, but the years seem to have dried his tears.

 _I pity him so_ , is the mantra in his head as he falls asleep. When he wakes up, he says it out loud, facing the cold spot by his side on the bed.

 


End file.
